Preface

 

 

Dear Jeremy,

I have been writing poems for you.

 

Long ago I read in

“The Death of a Nobody”

that final death occurs

when someone still on earth

has the last thought

of the one who has gone.

 

You were somebody.

 

Like the dinosaurs

who so captured your imagination

you lived, you existed,

you left your mark.

In the African kingdom of Lesotho

the national television station

exists in its design

because of you.

 

You are still somebody.

.

Other somebodies

Who have not met you

may see these poems.

You will live.

You will be known.

 

You will still be

somebody.